


blooming days

by isolated_killer



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Biker Kim Jongdae, Bikers, Byun Baekhyun is a Little Shit, Conflicts with Parents, Flower Boy Oh Sehun, Fluff and Humor, Hair Dyeing, Kim Joonmyun is a Little Shit, M/M, Math Pick-Up Lines, Meeting the Parents, Motorcycles, Nipple Piercings, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 00:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15961259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isolated_killer/pseuds/isolated_killer
Summary: How Flower Boy slash Mathematical Genius Oh Sehun meets Biker slash not very Bad Boy Kim Jongdae, and their story told through seven days of the week, or "Boy my love for you goes on like the number pi"





	blooming days

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Recipient! Thank you for this wonderful prompt even though I have to admit that I have struggled a bit with its completion - I have written half of it and then erased it because it wasn't doing your idea its justice. Anyway, here is my take on it, hopefully, it's something to your liking.

**blooming day**

It happens on a Tuesday.

Normally, Sehun hates Tuesdays, because it‘s the second day of the week so it’s already not Monday, but not yet Wednesday which is the middle of working week, the so called “little Friday” before actual Friday (skipping Thursday, because Sehun hates Thursdays too, if not more than Tuesdays). You can’t mope about Tuesdays, because technically they’re not the start of week, but also not really the middle either..?

Anyway, it happens on a Tuesday, and Sehun can't do anything with the fact.

The mathematics exam didn’t go as smoothly as Sehun had hoped for, because, despite being kind of genius at math and physics, he had only studied for this exam for just twenty minutes; and advanced mathematics always found ways to catch overly confident scholars like Sehun unawares with batshit theorems to be proved at absolutely inconvenient times. Thus, Sehun is busy analyzing and overthinking the whole exam in his own headspace to try and find possible faults, deaf and blind to the world and his friends bickering at the side, when the inevitable happens. 

When Sehun collides into something very solid and painfully angular, the next moment undergoes in the best traditions of comedic films where all disasters happen in slow motion. It’s like Sehun is watching himself from the sidelines: plopping down on his own ass, bag flying off to stranger places, his pals gasping in shock.

His mind is beautifully void off thoughts as he collides with the hard floor and stares up at the reason for his fall, blinking in confusion.

The guy must be a head shorter than Sehun. There’s a baggy white undershirt under his leather jacket, which is sitting all askew, with a pair of very ripped dark jeans that’s clearly seen better days a worrying amount of time ago: overall, he looks like he’s just got manhandled on public transport in rush hours in comparison to Sehun’s impeccable three piece. His black hair also seems stupid with choppy sweaty fringe plastered to his forehead. But then Sehun’s gaze catches on a spiky piercing in the boy's eyebrow and cheekbones that can cut glass, and then falls to a black motorbike helmet that the man’s clutching in one hand with a cup of what used to be iced Americano in his other, the black coffee now rapidly spreading into a huge brown abyss on the white of his shirt. And this fact is making the boy frown as he looks down at his own clothes.

There is also the thing; the guy’s lips are in the form of the mathematical bracket. There’s that, yes. 

“Ah, crap, now look at this mess… Watch where you’re fucking going, dude,” the man’s voice sounds somewhat high, and like he’s about to break out into a childish whine instead of an angry rant, and Sehun finds it both surprising and, well… nice. The boy holds up the soppy side of his undershirt with two (kinda really pretty) fingers like it's something gross, assessing the damage; there is a couple of thin metallic rings on them, and Sehun gulps.

“It’s totally your fault, didn't you see Sehun walk down the hall, you could have avoided him, and now he's the one on the floor,” Sooyoung says from somewhere above but Sehun is too busy to register the meaning; the boy's features morph into an expression that can only be described as “don't fuck with me”, as he looks up and stares her dead in the eye, purses his lips and slowly raises his pierced eyebrow in silent challenge.

Wow.

“Come on, just apologize, and we'll be done here,” Taemin says impatiently at the same time as Jongin kneels down beside him, whispering, “you okay?”

The guy then lowers his gaze, expression softening, and only shakes his head with a small smile, doesn't even deem his friends with any response. Seemingly finding the whole situation amusing, and like he can’t be bothered wasting time to argue with single-brain-celled creatures Sehun’s friends totally are.

Sehun is positively swooning.

Sooyoung and Taemin start huffing at the apparent show of attitude at the same time as the boy throws down a glance at Sehun from under his thick eyelashes (honestly), finally acknowledging the disaster that is Sehun on the corridor floor, a small smile still playing on his face as he fucking winks.

Is Sehun staring? He damn right is.

“Hey, get up,” the boy says suddenly and quickly puts the big helmet under his forearm, still holding onto the dirty plastic glass with miserable leftovers of his morning coffee, and stretches his now empty clean hand out to help Sehun stand up, all friendly air and not at all up Sehun’s business for practically ruining his clothes for the day. If Sehun wasn’t currently immersed in the aquarium of his own whooshing feelings, he'd hear still kneeling Jongin’s breath hitch, the socially awkward boy always freezing at sudden prospects of skinship, especially with strangers.

“Oh, come on, don't you…”

“At least have the decency to apo…”

Sehun grabs the stretched out hand without even a second of self-doubt, which successfully shuts both his friends. He is grinning as the boy yanks him up, hold on his hand strong; a moment passes, and Sehun involuntarily stumbles on his two jelly feet and rights himself by clutching the leather on the shorter boy's shoulder.

The other chuckles. He outright releases a breathy chuckle, letting him lean his weight on him, looks up at towering Sehun and studies him from under those stupidly thick eyelashes, spikes in his eyebrow glinting upclose. Sehun’s mouth opens before he can stop himself.

“Are you a math teacher..?”

“Sehun, what the hell,” Taemin laughs and steps over to extract Sehun from the poor stranger he’s just technically dumped their own coffee on in the middle of a fucking university corridor. They’re starting to attract attention as students linger curiously. The boy just stares at him, a little frown pushing his eyebrows together, and Sehun has never been more determined about getting a particular equation right.

“N-no…” the other provides awkwardly, smile failing for a moment, clearly confused by Sehun’s ridiculous question, but the response only makes Sehun grin harder, as he continues, feeling fucking proud of himself for not stuttering.

“…because you got me harder than calculus.”

The silence that ascends on their little commotion is positively deafening as his friends freeze in horror, and Jongin finally stands up and stares between Sehun and the stranger with his mouth agape. Some stray students gather around them, having heard possibly the most cringe-worthy math pick up line in history of pick up lines, waiting to see how the flirting scene will unfold because, come on, math pick up lines.

Sehun bulldozes on.

“Do you like math?”

The shoulder he’s still insisting to hold starts shaking in the telltale manner as the stranger bursts out laughing, clearly amused beyond belief, and Sehun’s heart flutters: if he tolerates math pick-up lines, he’s a keeper.

“Uhm, yes..?” The boy responds in kind, looking Sehun straight in the eyes, waiting for the cringey continuation with a wide smile on his lips, and Sehun is once again reminded that they’re fucking bracket-shaped. This is fate. 

“I do too... But right now, the only number I care about is yours.”

The crowd around them, including Sehun’s friends, goes wild. Some people boo at the sheer audacity of him, but a large number of passersby are clapping in credit for Sehun’s bravery, and a few are actually filming them on their phones (of course, if it isn’t Instagramed, it didn’t happen). The stranger shakes his head yet again, still laughing, and Sehun opens his mouth to maybe blurt out another awful line, but then Jongin is hitting him on a shoulder blade like he’s trying to make Sehun cough up a lung, dying from laughter. This jostles him and the boy, and Sehun is begrudgingly forced to release the leather of the other’s jacket, back stinging; he pushes Jongin away without even looking, successfully booping him over the nose in revenge.

“Listen, you’re cute as hell, but that’s kinda…” the boy says, and his smile falls a little as he spares quick glances at the crowd around them. “Is it some kind of new challenge? Did you bet on me? Otherwise, I’m sorry, man, but no.” He appears unperturbed by the fact that he’s just ruined Sehun’s whole life as he throws him the last smile and reaches to finally take his helmet from under his forearm, momentarily palming his ruined shirt, with the dirty coffee cup still in his hold. Sehun frowns at it like it’s hurt him personally, and then at the gathered students as they groan in frustration at Jongdae’s rejection. 

“Do you have nothing better to do? A little privacy here, please,” he says, cold annoyance trickling back into his speech like it’s never left and he hasn’t just supposedly embarrassed himself in front of the whole student body thanks to that brief Instagram live. He’s sure the S. University location tag is filled with the only one repeatedly reposted video right now, everyone going out of their stupid ways to tag him under all the posts. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Sooyoung drumming out message after message on her phone with the speed that'd put any machine gun to shame. 

“You’re in the damn corridor, Oh! Want privacy, get a room,” Some dude shouts at him, but the scowl on Sehun’s face sent in the general vicinity of that voice, coupled with Taemin’s helpful kick to their shin, shuts up the possible lewd continuation. 

The stranger in front of him releases a choked up cough though, and the crease on Sehun’s forehead immediately relaxes as he looks down at the angel clad in leather before him. 

Well, maybe they’re tagging this boy under some of the posts on Instagram too. At least, he'll be able to stalk him on social media.

“Oh as in Oh Sehun?” The vision with a motorbike helmet asks suddenly, raising eyebrows up at Sehun.

“And what of it?” Taemin asks defensively before Sehun even has a chance to open his mouth; his friend drapes himself over his form, staring at the boy in suspicion always ready to fight off people seeking out Sehun to leech off his family wealth, their more-than-average net worth – a kinda known fact among student folk.

“The math genius Oh Sehun? I'm Kim Jongdae, man, financial management department, economics major, really happy to meet you! I watched your project presentation on algorithms for possible failure and success of SpaceX's infrastructure for Mars during the SNU student convention, very witty presentation indeed, still remember your calling Musk “a smart douche” during the official closure speech,” Jongdae chuckles as he looks up at Sehun, eyes bright with recognition. “I couldn't tell it was you because you had black hair back then.”

“Blond cost him his precious Romeo,” Sooyoung mutters from somewhere to his left, at the same time as Jongin greets the boy with a shy, “I'm Jongin, nice to meet you.” Suddenly spurred into action, Taemin extends his arm for a handshake over Sehun's waist, and still shell-shocked Sehun watches Jongdae hurry to push the helmet under his forearm again, eager to shake Taemin's hand.

“Kim Jongdae, you said?” Sehun croaks weakly, finally managing to cough up a response.

“Yes, just call me hyung since I'm older than all of you…” and then he’s carding his free hand right through his hair, pushing the short locks away from his forehead, letting Sehun see his handsome face in its full glory, piercing proudly on display, leather jacket open, undershirt dirty, shiny black motorcycle helmet in hand. Ripped jeans and mouth in a bracket, doing an economics major.

Sehun opens his mouth without a preamble.

“Are you a 45 degree angle, because you're perfect?”

**vroom vroom**

So, by Friday morning, Sehun might be considered as a little obsessed, if one would like to look at the situation at hand sincerely and with hand duly laid on their heart. 

He’s scrolled through all 67 pictures, posted on Jongdae’s Instagram, a total of 32 times; they mostly consist of promotions for a small shop selling stuff for bikes somewhere in Garosugil, and also infuriatingly include pictures either of one of his boyfriends or two friends instead of Jongdae’s own face. There are only 8 selcas, posted seemingly once every blue moon, the last one dating back to 2 months ago, with Jongdae’s hair at that time being lighter in the colour of milk chocolate and much longer than the current cropped style. He is winking at the selca, smiling up at the camera on a sunny day, and the ring in his eyebrow is bright neon pink. It made Sehun keen the first time he saw it. 

Jongin texts him with encouragements to go for it and try asking Jongdae out again. Sooyoung, the voice of reason in their little group chat, types up that if he tries dating a boy again, his mother’ll be having him hanged by the balls. Taemin ignores his moping and wordlessly sends them all a link to an article about the pizza place they’ve been frequenting lately closing due to some contamination of pipes inside the campus building.

Sehun frowns. Honestly, maybe he should look into the choice of places they visit more carefully next time.

Anyways, Jongdae brushing him off on Tuesday with a laugh and attractive wave of his hand still stings. Plus, it doesn’t help that the video of the cold and distant math genius slash local flower boy Oh Sehun professing his love in stupid math pick-up lines has gone kind of viral on Wednesday, with him getting tagged under each and every damn repost. His own profile is filled with weird filtered pictures of zoomed in graphs and body parts (created just to piss off his mother) gains more followers over a night than over half a year of its existence.

Particularly, the user named “baekstab” has contributed to the popularity of his confession with an edit of original video with the Despacito song and caption _kkaebsong alexa play despacito_. And Sehun couldn’t really find it in himself to get angry because that user was the first one to tag Kim Jongdae in the post. Apparently, he was a close friend of the Jongdae “math-ed out” victim”, the name, courtesy of “baekstab” in one of the comment sections where he’d been particularly loud.

Maybe, he should DM the guy and threaten to report him for bullying, also casually ask for Jongdae’s number. No, abort mission, Oh, abort mission, this is avid creeper behavior. 

“Isn’t it… your cool bad boy? The one who rejected you?” Chanyeol asks curiously, as they enter the parking lot outside the University after the calculus exam, staring somewhere to the side.

Sehun turns his head so fast, something cracks in his neck, resounding with pain. He doesn't acknowledge it though, marching towards a few bikes parked near the exist, giggling Chanyeol hurrying after him, excited to see another showdown, telephone clutched in hand.

“Hey, hyung…” Sehun pauses in his step before approaching the bikers too closely, seeing Jongdae surrounded by a group of intimidating people in leather, each holding a helmet. They all stare at Sehun in his three-piece suit weirdly, apparently ready to mount the motorcycles and leave the university parking lot. And, as smiling Jongdae stands up from his kneeling position in front of his bike to greet Sehun properly, he notices the familiar face of Jongdae's baekstab friend, now sporting the biggest shit-eating grin of the universe.

Great, embarrassing himself in front of his own friends and a bunch of strangers online was one thing, but public humiliation before very cool biker people in leather and piercings seems like a particular type of torture.

But then grinning Jongdae approaches him and extends his arm for a handshake, and then Sehun is technically holding his hand, squeezing pretty fingers in thin rings, spikes glinting in his eyebrow, cheekbones just as sharp as they were on Tuesday, hair pushed back and Sehun has to physically stop himself from blurting out a “I less than three you”…

“Who is the CEO? When did JD befriend Mr. Grey? Why do I know nothing about this?” One of the guys with full cheeks says frowning, as sharp eyes scan over Sehun's formal wear.

That's when the baekstab asshole starts humming Despacito, extremely pleased with himself as the full-cheeked boy begins giggling, and Jongdae breaks their handshaking, turning around as all his friends burst out laughing, some of them whistling.

“Okay, idiots, that's enough. You're literally the reason why I can't become friends with good people. Junmyeon, stop corrupting the child,” he is grinning when he turns to throw a knowing glance at one of the boys who is already sitting on his own motorcycle; a silver Harley Davidson emblem proudly displayed on the black panel, clearly the most expensive and cool one out here, with chrome parts shinning in the sun.

Sehun frowns as he watches the attractive man wink at Chanyeol, who positively goes into a stupor, already big eyes – saucers, mouth hanging open in shock, the red on his cheeks - the colour of tomato. The only perk of this is that now Sehun isn't the only one swooned by a bad boyish sort of guy in leather, he thinks, otherwise, Park's fucked. Chanyeol then lowers his gaze sheepishly, chewing on his lip, as the biker man gives him a confident smile, but Sehun loses interest in Chanyeol's crisis in favour of turning back to Jongdae.

“Listen, sorry for the whole thing with edits, I'm friends with the most stupid person on the planet,” the boy says, almost sheepish as he scratches the back of his head.

“Most brilliant, you meant,” the fucker says, shuffling towards them and having the audacity to drape himself over Jongdae's form, all up his personal space, arms around his middle, fucking… fucking laying his head on Jongdae’s shoulder, breathing against his neck. Sehun feels his face morph into the ugliest of scowls as he stares the stupid asshole down, like he's trying to burn him off Jongdae with just his gaze. The boy outright smirks, looking back at Sehun, and drags his face through the hair at the back of Jongdae's head, inhaling and groaning loudly.

Sehun’s body goes cold and then immediately hot in the span of ten seconds.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Baekhyun, get away from me, you creep,” Jongdae basically saves this Baekhyun guy from being mauled by Sehun’s bare hands, as he elbows him in his liver, and satisfied Sehun watches the annoying guy choke, releasing his hold on Jongdae and clutching on the pained spot. “Sehun, I’m really sorry for how it’s all turned out, I get it that it was supposed to be a joke, but even then, it’s kind of going overboard with all the attention it’s attracting. Hoping it won’t make you hate me or something,” Jongdae then proceeds to release an awkward giggle, like an absolute angel that he is, and Sehun, he swoons.

“H-hate you?” He stammers through the word, bewildered by the idea that anyone could hate such a holy person like Jongdae with his thighs clad in leather, and his pierced eyebrow, and highest sharpest cheekbones, and his smile, and his motorbike. Sehun's heart swells as he realizes that Jongdae's readily taken the blame for a stupid situation Sehun dragged him into, never even mentioning ruined clothes or Sehun embarrassing him with clowny pick-up lines. What a pure cinnamon roll, too pure for this world, possibly too good for Sehun.

He’s confused though, why Jongdae’s so determined to brush off his advances as a joke (even if they were sprouted on him in a stupid manner). “N-no, I don’t hate you, I…”

“He wants a piece of this ass, JD,” this guy Baekhyun jumps in with another idiotic remark, having recovered from the jab, and slaps Jongdae on his butt with a resounding slap. He breaks out into a fit of very loud laughs when Jongdae turns around, muttering that he’s not being funny at-fucking-all, and pushes him away hard enough that he stumbles into one of the bikes, barely managing to balance himself so he doesn’t topple on the expensive machinery; everyone laughs at the faces Baekhyun pulls, including Jongdae who just shakes his head at the other’s antics.

“Okay, well, glad that we’ve talked, I was worried about you getting offended,” Jongdae adds, sort of hurriedly, like he can't wait to get out of this conversation, Sehun too busy glaring daggers into Baekhyun’s form, still shaking from laughter. Before he even realizes what is happening next, Jongdae is turning around, a weird blush on his cheeks (probably due to the heat) before stepping over to his own motorcycle; a Honda seemingly older than some of the other guys’ around him, but the body is done in attractive deep blue colour, the pipes and details on display - in coal black. “Well, have a nice Friday, guys!”

His friends echo the well wishes for the day, some yell for them to get “drunk as fuck while yall young!” and Sehun opens his mouth to protest because wait, he hasn't yet articulated to him that the confessions weren't a joke, he is very serious about his feelings for the other because he's an angel personified, and wouldn't Jongdae like to take him up on the offer to get that coffee Sehun's ruined for him earlier on Tuesday.

But then Jongdae actually turns around (and wow, by the way, now that Sehun’s right behind him, his lil bubble butt is also really cute. The type that begs to be squeezed, Sehun decides mentally) and mounts the motorbike. This catches Sehun like he's in a slow motion scene in an action movie: the man gracefully swings his leg over the bike, leather pants stretching as he moves, and then he descends on the seat, like royalty on its throne, back arched, pulling on short leather gloves on his hands with a serious expression on like he's about to go into battle, piercing glinting yet again (it must have some sparkles on reflecting light like that)... Sehun has trouble breathing, fuck.

Somewhere through the white noise that buzzes in his head as he's hit with the strongest wave of attraction towards the biker boy, he hears the attractive guy on the chrome motorcycle casually throw at Chanyeol, who's positively trying his best to hide all of his long limbs behind Sehun's smaller form, “Hey, want a ride?”

Baekhyun laughs at that while the full-cheeked boy begins whining on how they're all going to be late if they don't hurry the fuck up, and Chanyeol whispers a quiet terrified “N-no, thank you,” and the attractive chrome bike guy nods in understanding.

“If you change your mind, let me know,” he says, sending the both of them a blinding smile with another wink. He's the last to pull his incredibly cool chrome helmet over his head as a couple of Jongdae's friends wave at Sehun, and then they're speeding out of the parking lot.

Frozen, Sehun and Chanyeol both continue to stand without moving for another couple of minutes.

«Of course he thinks I'm a fucking joke,» Sehun groans in frustration, slapping a hand across his face. «I told him he makes me «harder than calculus, fuck…»

«Did a biker with the most perfect face I've ever seen on a live human offer to give me a ride on his cool bike and I… I said no?» Chanyeol whispers, suddenly mortified by his own stupidity, staring in front of himself in shock.

«We're the most useless gays in history of gays, Park,» Sehun whispers in response, and Chanyeol nods weakly in agreement.

As Chanyeol drives Sehun home yet again, he lets the sulking boy blast BIG BANG's Haru Haru on repeat.

**playdate**

It’s a Saturday which means instead of sleeping in, Sehun is dragged out to run errands with his insufferable mother. As the future heir to the family business, he has “rESpOnSIbiLItIes”: having overpriced brunches with wives of their partners at asscrack hours of mornings, sometimes forced into awkward conversations with a daughter or two of the brunched ladies. The girls always look just as tired and exasperated as he feels, but make infinitely better attempts at looking presentable and pretty than Sehun, with his hair sticking up on the right side of his head, half asleep in his plates of pureed kabocha with truffles, French basil and caramelized onions or highest quality Japanese rice porridge with cherry blossom petals. At 8 in the morning on a weekend, any food tastes like damn paper.

And honestly, they've had this conversation before. Sehun isn't going to date a girl. His mother is just being a stubborn asshole about this.

Moments after the brunch's over and they say goodbyes to two wives (no daughter material presented today), his mother’s perfect smile falls and she turns to Sehun, practically hissing, “Make the damn appointment with your actual stylist the moment we get home, you're getting rid of this stupid hair colour as soon as possible. You're not some idiot kpop idol to go around blond just to embarrass me.”

Sehun yawns in the most unattractive way he can manage, not even bothering to cover his mouth, and his mother huffs.

“Well, no car then, continue to catch rides on your friends,” She spits poisonously, Sehun snorting at her choice of words, but then pauses in her way to the car. “Wait, since we're in the downtown, let's visit my favourite boutique, haven’t been there for weeks,” and at that, Sehun wordlessly makes a complete turn on his heels, marching to the nearby Starbucks as his irritated mother shouts for him to still be there in ten.

And Sehun is duly minding his own damn business, thinking of his pillows, unaware of the world around him, until some hyper active kids run right in front of him, and he looks up to scowl at them and… stops in shock, blinking, brain screeching to a pause.

There, at the entrance, two motorcycles. Honda in deep blue and Harley Davidson in shining chrome.

One, two seconds of hesitation, of not believing his luck, and then Sehun is practically running through the doors, heart in his throat, looking around.

There, to the left side of cafe hall, Jongdae and the attractive guy from yesterday are sitting at a small table, drinks in the branded white mugs steaming. They're not paying attention to each other, both immersed in their phones, the Harley Davidson guy watching something with wireless earphones plugged into his ears, and Jongdae with his back to him – scrolling and occasionally typing up short messages.

It's a tough choice; wanting to approach but not wishing to seem like a total creepy stalker. Awkward like never before, he contemplates his decision like his life is depending on it, whining inwardly, because why feelings are harder than calculus, what good is differential equations if he can't even score a date with a cute boy.

Powering through his anxiety, Sehun takes a determined step towards the boys' table, but groans in desperation after immediately losing his courage when Jongdae moves to get up, and quickly turns to walk in the other direction.

And because his life is an ugly mess, that's when he collides with a girl who yelps loudly in surprise. Suddenly, the front of his shirt is soaking, Frappuccino splashed over his chest in chocolatey swirls, nipples freezing diamond hard, pride – smashed into fucking pieces.

Fuck, this is the family brand shirt, custom made specifically for him, mother is going to fling him into the river Han. 

The poor girl is staring at his ruined clothes in shock, not knowing what to say, and Sehun has already mentally decided on silently ninja-ing out of the cafe, praying that, despite everyone staring at him and the lady, the two guys 3 feet from them are still blessedly unaware of the situation.

“Karma is a bitch,” the familiar voice says right next to him, and Sehun's heart falters; Jongdae is standing at his side with the shittiest grin on his face. They share a look, Jongdae's smiling warm eyes readily meeting his terrified gaze, and Jongdae bursts out into a fit of raspy laughs, good-naturedly patting Sehun on his back with an unnecessarily long shirtsleeve paw. The tips of pretty fingers barely pick out as he gives Sehun a couple napkins.

There's also the fact that today Jongdae's short hair and perfect eyebrows are of matching deep brick red colour. His piercing's also been changed – a neon orange ring to suit the new warmer style and honestly, fuck him for looking so good. Sehun releases his breath in a loud woosh, hoping Jongdae thinks it's because of the cold drink, and not because he wants to pick him up and carry somewhere safe and private.

“Wow, your nipples, that frap was pure ice,” the boy says casually, staring at Sehun's chest like it's… nothing adsfdhdfhg and Sehun almost drops the napkin he's wiped down the worst of the milky chocolate catastrophe with. «Excuse him, he knocks into people a lot, that's his job,” he turns to the girl Sehun's nearly killed with enviable nonchalance, all friendly flower child in leather pants, and she nods in understanding as if that shit makes sense. After a quick peek at Sehun's unamused face (is Jongdae fucking flirting with everybody, is it HIS job), she wordlessly rushes past them to the exit, hurrying to disappear either because a) Sehun can be fucking intimating when he wants to, or b) she's probably figured the approximate price of his shirt, or c) possibly both.

“Come on, stop scowling, I was just joking. Do agree though, it's our third meeting, and drinks are spilled everywhere and you're miraculously the reason again,” he says softly, and Sehun is melting together with the leftovers of Frappuccino on his chest.

“I'm not mad, I'm… just happy to see you, hyung,” Sehun says in a single breath, while courage has yet to desert him. “You look really good.”

A terrified Starbucks employee emerges from the staff room with a set of clean absorbing cloths while Jongdae blinks up curiously, eyelashes fluttering over high cheekbones. Is it normal to want to kiss eyelashes?

“And you look really cool,” he says with his expression turning mischievous in a span of one second, finger guns pointed at Sehun's chest, now covered by a huge neon green piece of fabric. «Get it? Because the frap is cool and…”

“I get it,” Sehun interrupts him, unamused. Okay, nobody's perfect, and Jongdae seems to lack a good sense of humour. It's okay, Sehun can work around that.

Jongdae cracks up anyway, eyes in slits and smile impossibly bright from how hard he's laughing, hitting Sehun on the forearm with a sleeve paw.

“Jun hyung's rubbing off on me, I'm so sorry, but this was a chance too good to pass up,” with his shoulders still shaking slightly, Jongdae turns, at the same time as Sehun looks up with a frown to see the attractive guy wave at them from across the hall. “We were actually planning to chill today, just returned from our little trip to Incheon, the sole reason why we're awake at ten in the morning on a weekend day… kinda pointless going to bed now. Seeing you out here, on the other hand, is a pleasant surprise, are you always awake this early?”

Holy shit, he didn't sleep for who knows how long and… looks this good? Sehun's fucked; also his brain is all gooey because Jongdae's said that meeting him is a pleasant surprise. Cue internal hollering.

“I'm… doing important boring stuff with my mother every Saturday, so, yes, unwillingly but I'm always awake at this hour on Saturdays,” he says awkwardly, spit catching in his throat as he watches Jongdae bite his brackety lip.

“Well, are you done?” the boy asks him, tone casual, but intentions vague.

“Why?” He croaks in response, pausing in his incessant patting on the huge ugly spot.

“Well, you really need to go shopping now,” Jongdae holds his gaze in a suffocating confident way, pointing at his shirt with a sleeve paw.

“Why, no, I do quite enjoy standing here with Frappuccino dripping down my shirt... and, yes, it's finally descended right into my underwear, which is,” he lamely repeats Jongdae's finger guns move back at him, “a bonus.” For a bedazzled second, he stupidly watches Jongdae laugh, his eyes - pretty half-moons, cheekbones shiny as the boy's shoulders shake at his joke, and then the realization hits him like a freight train. Wait... IS JONGDAE FLIRTING WITH HIM NOW?! “A-are you offering to join me for shopping, I mean, yes?” Sehun asks in a stuttering whisper, heart positively stuck somewhere in his throat, palms immediately sweaty as he not so discreetly tries to wipe them on the chocolatey cloth.

Jongdae blinks mid-laugh and smiles almost like Mona Lisa herself, the air around them charged with his coy energy, and Sehun is gone, dead and deceased, never even having had a chance in the first place.

“I...”

“Hey, hey, kid, you're friends with the tall pretty guy from yesterday, right?”

Sehun frowns in displeasure as the apple of his eye Jongdae is interrupted by the attractive guy with the Harley motorcycle; not without evil satisfaction, he notes that the man is of the same small height as the redhead boy, even though yesterday his sheer presence on the bike made him seem much taller. Now dressed in an oversized hoodie, he looks positively tiny, draping himself over Jongdae, arm easily slung over his shoulders and Sehun thinks the Frap on his chest is starting to boil: is everyone always hanging on Jongdae? Is it his friends' life purpose?

“Hyung, stop embarrassing yourself,” Jongdae says in response, elbowing his friend in the chest to get him off and barely avoiding knocking into the coffee cup the man's brought with him.

“I'm Junmyeon, by the way, but you call me hyung,” the attractive dude adds with a smile so brilliant, it stuns Sehun for half a second; moments later, Jongdae and Junmyeon start bickering over the other's blatant question, Jongdae claiming that he sounds like a creeper, and Junmyeon innocently countering that he's just gathering information on close friends of Jongdae's future boyfriend.

This makes Sehun's thought process screech to a very abrupt halt, face positively aflame, while Jongdae's cheeks also grow blotchy – he splatters for Junmyeon to shut up, avoiding Sehun's wondering eyes, and adds in a raspy voice, “wow, you're so rude, Sehun's standing right in front of you with a huge splotch on his clothes and you didn't even ask if he's okay...”

“As your best friend, I can't say that I was surprised because I assumed the boy here had immediately creamed himself upon seeing you thus resulting in this disaster on his shirt, beg your pardon if I was wrong... these days you can't just assume things, you just can't,” Junmyeon breathes out in the most casual of tones, his eyebrow raised, smile cold and look in his eyes positively murderous. Mayhaps, this is a revenge for something Jongdae's done before, or Junmyeon just enjoys being a bag of dicks; while Sehun is definitely dying, Jongdae's cute mouth makes a perfect ‘o' and he just stands there staring at his feet in shock, stunned into silence by the audacity of his friend.

Well, Harley Davidson or not, this Junmyeon guy will have one hell of a trouble if he decides to actually pursue Chanyeol.

“What... Sehun, darling, what happened?!” Of course, that's when his mother decides to announce her appearance in a flourish of expensive perfume and enormous shopping bags, practically flying into the cafe as she stares at Sehun's clothes. “Did they do this to you?!”

She puts her ugliest bitchface on as she turns to the two boys, and, honestly, it's a scary one; Sehun would know because he did learn this particular one from her.

Jongdae and Junmyeon both nod their heads awkwardly in respect for his mom, and throw lingering looks at Sehun for tips on how to act, Jongdae's expression schooled into polite surprise, and Junmyeon – frowning, seemingly ready to fight if Sehun's mother suddenly decides to bust out nunchaku right out of her MCM purse.

“No, mom, these are my hyungs, I just accidently met them here after some girl walked right into me,” he says quietly, trying to avoid unnecessary interrogation while intensely staring at Jongdae. In theory, he is trying to communicate to the other to relax, but most probably he just looks constipated because Jongdae raises a confused eyebrow (that damn sexy piercing, fuck) as he catches Sehun's eyes.

“Actually, you were the one who walked right into the girl's drink, barely avoided killing her with your alpha shoulders,” Junmyeon says in mock whisper and gets not so subtly elbowed in his solar plexus by Jongdae who desperately tries not to laugh at that, lips pursed in a badly hidden snort, and, unfortunately, that's when Sehun's mom finally decides to assess them both.

“Hyungs, you say…”

She scans Junmyeon and Jongdae from head to toe, and the only thing about Junmyeon that makes her purse her lips in displeasure is his enormous hoodie. Jongdae, on the other hand, is the one she practically MRIs. As if in slo-mo, Sehun sees his mom notice everything, every tiny point he's attracted to: the cool hair, his piercing, studs in his ears, street casual choice of his clothes and, of course, the leather pants. She opens her mouth, poison on the very tip of her tongue when Sehun decides to take matters into his own hands.

“I think we gotta get home as soon as possible, because this is starting to get real uncomfortable,” one pointed grumpy look at his mother, and she's back into motion, crowding around him, pushing him towards the exit. He throws the last hopefully reassuring look at Jongdae.

“Goodbye, children…” She says over her shoulder, as if dismissing the two boys once and for all.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Oh, see you soon, Sehun,” Jongdae says in a saccharine voice, smiling in the most endearing way he can master, nodding a little (Sehun is melting at his lil shiny cheekbones as mother pushes him towards the exit).

“Have a nice day,” Junmyeon mumbles in a dead voice, definitely mentally wishing for them both to get run over by a bus right upon exiting the cafe, his smile so fake it could sting.

His mother pointedly ignores them in favour of explaining all the possible ways to saving Sehun’s stupid shirt, and honestly, what a fucking disappointment, Sehun was almost there with scoring a date, wasn't he?

**Monday blues**

It's Monday again, and Sehun hates Mondays. Most difficult days of the week, stupid starts to routine weekly shit, with evenings wasted in workshops for points to keep up his scholarship and mornings ruined with long subway rides. 

Technically, he gets it, he's made his own life hard. But he really does want to receive his scholarship despite not really needing to since his family is kind of rich, and it's a one hell of a pain in the ass. And he really does want to keep this obnoxiously blond hair colour whatever the number of times his mother has to bitch about its unprofessionalism and how she won't let him have his Alfa Romeo back until he changes it back to classic black. Like his student ass could really care about that.

Thus, it's the usually shitty Monday when fate decides to take the shit-o-metre up a notch.

With his physics workshop finished two hours later than expected and all possible rides gone, Sehun's ten steps into running to the subway station when spring rain decides to fuck up his day even further. It starts pouring buckets with just a couple of droplets onto his shoulders as a warning; it takes him just four huge strides to get back under the university entrance's roof, long legs useful for once, and yet, he's soaking, his cashmere sweater be damned and as good as ruined.

“Fucking shit,» he says under his breath, baby blue fabric in soppy chunks as he judges his own reflection in the glass door; a rat escaping sinking ship must be looking better than him right now. With skin deathly pale and his eye bags so evident, hair plastered to his forehead, he's really glad Sooyoung's gone home much earlier today otherwise that bitch would have got a lot of blackmail material.

“Say, are you a 45-degree angle? Because you're acute-y…”

Sehun turns so fast, his shoes slip on the wet floor and he trips over his own left foot, stumbling into Jongdae's welcoming arms.

“Wow, these pickup lines do work!” Jongdae says, chuckling, as Sehun gropes for the soft leather of the other's jacket and then hurries to right himself, cheeks aflame, staring at Jongdae's sneakers to avoid direct confrontation and stop panicking because DID JONGDAE JUST MATH-FLIRT WITH HIM¡¿

“Hyung, woah, sorry, didn't see you there,” he whispers, suddenly awkward.

“Ow, so you didn't stumble into me on purpose? What a bummer,” Jongdae is fucking pouting when Sehun finally dares to look him in the eye; he breaks down into a fit of amused giggles as he catches Sehun’s stunned face. “I’m just joking, I’m sorry.”

“I-I don't mind. Really, though, it's like fate has decided that we absolutely have to meet once every two days now that we know each other, and... it's honestly cool.”

“Actually, I get free around this time each Monday, after tutoring freshmen. Was planning to go home and it's raining so hard. You?” Jongdae asks, looking genuinely curious.

“I have workshops on Mondays which are called Societies, and today I participated in the Society of Physics Students... Societies are incredibly boring, with pretentious fucks sitting for hours discussing acoustics or atmospheric optics and I only go to them to keep up points for the scholarship. I wanted to take subway home but... what?”

Hearing that, Jongdae just shakes his head as if he can't believe in Sehun's existence, and bites his lip, staring up at Sehun like he's... the sun itself or something.

“Fuck, you're so smart and it's so hot? Like, there’s your height and your looks, but then you also have a little lisp? Which is really endearing, and you're wearing a baby blue cashmere sweater. Also, I've been kind of thinking about you since that project presentation because you were really cool when you were on stage. Seriously, Sehun, please, when are you going to give me your number?”

“W-what?” He fucking squeaks in response, because Jongdae's just sort of confessed to liking him and Sehun... is Sehun who is only good at math, and has never really been that good at people things, especially when bikers with actual bikes are concerned. Thus, he skids. “I... I do know hundreds of digits of pi but... but not the digits of your phone number,” he stutters slowly and watches Jongdae's expectant face become amused and then crumble from laughter, the boy hitting him on the arm.

And then abruptly, he stops laughing, expression comically serious as he purses his lips and glares at Sehun.

“This pick-up is pretty average though, how about this one: I'm overheating because you're stuck in my head like an infinite loop.”

With tummy butterflies somersaulting, Sehun silently squints at Jongdae, his eyebrow raised, mimicking the other's serious expression from a couple of minutes ago. Jongdae fights another fit of giggles and squints back at Sehun. Together, they stand like that inside the entrance, black leather jacket and baby blue cashmere, heavy rain drumming over the roof above their heads as they both break down at the same time, amused by their own ridiculousness.

Jongdae whips his phone out of the inside pocket of his jacket at the same time as Sehun takes his from the back pocket of his jeans. Jongdae shakes his head at their timing, so handsome as he refuses to meet Sehun's eyes, carefully reciting his phone number to Sehun, eyelashes gently touching high cheekbones, his piercing so close to Sehun now as they both lean in over the phones. Sehun drops a call back, and Jongdae cancels it with a shy lick to his brackety mouth, cheeks a bit blotchy as he tucks phone back into his inside pocket. 

“Well, text me. Kinda really hope you do it soon so I don't have to worry that I've practically forced you into exchanging numbers.” 

Sehun, suspecting that he's having the worst case of absolutely smitten expressions as he marvels Jongdae's existence, blinks. And then wordlessly types up a curt message on his phone, still clutched in his hand. 

Jongdae's phone vibrates in his pocket, making the boy smile widely. 

“Wish I could give you a ride home on my bike, but I left it at home because I'm one of these rare people who actually check forecasts,” he chuckles when his phone starts vibrating again which promptly makes him lose the happy expression. “And that's my Uber...” He says, sounding regretful. “I'll text you, Sehun. Let's schedule a bike ride soon, if you're up for trying.”

And, honestly, Sehun is so… tremendously excited and happy, he nods eagerly, almost leans down to give Jongdae a goodbye kiss on the cheek, but the boy is quick to pull his leather jacket over his head and run towards the nearby waiting Uber.

“So, you checked the forecast and saved your bike but didn't take an umbrella!” He shouts after the boy and if he sounds disgustingly in love, he doesn't care.

Jongdae turns around for half a second, shoving him awkward thumbs up, and loudly laughs right until the taxi's door bangs shut. 

hot biker  
  
143  
  
<3  
  
Me - >:}  
  
You – {:<  
  
182  
  
>:{  
  


**sweet dreams**

The thing is, the chemistry between the two of them is great. Over the course of a whole week, they’ve texted, they've spoken on the phone a total of three times. They discuss university bullshit, the fact that Sehun’s been prohibited from touching his silver Alfa Romeo (Jongdae whistled in appreciation) until he gets rid of the platinum blond hair, Jongdae's seemingly cool but actually mundane work at the motorcycle shop; Sehun asked if it's anything like in the Jason Statham movies, with gangster dudes starting fights and Jongdae having to participate in street races to earn respect of local bosses; Jongdae cracked up and didn't stop laughing for one minute, then explained that working at a biker shop is more like being a waiter at vegan restaurant with some bikers demanding most ridiculous detail fillings for their motorcycles.

They haven’t really discussed family stuff yet, but Sehun did note when Jongdae talked about his brother once. Sehun, on the other hand, mentioned his mother only when Jongdae curiously asked how he’d discovered his sexuality over a quick coffee break in the university cafe on a Monday. Sehun easily replied with the truth that the realization’d dawned on him when his mom used to try and arrange dates with a few daughters of his fathers' business partners and he was anything but interested (skipping the fact that she still fucking continues to do so). Jongdae chuckled at that, offhandedly commenting that he's actually bisexual so he doesn't have a problem with dating both, girls and boys, to which Sehun answered in a fake cheerful voice that hopefully, not at the same time unless all parties are willing. Jongdae shamelessly responded that, no, Sehun is his top priority right now unless his mom approaches him with a possible girl suggestion and Sehun finally finds her interesting, in that case, he would be ready to discuss arrangements.

Sehun fake laughed and then forcefully crowded the shorter man into the tall bar-like cafe table, squinting his eyes at Jongdae in intimidation tactic. The other laughed gingerly, cheekbones all blotchy and coyly met his eyes dead on, the cold Americano clutched in his hands as if the last shield between them.

And that was how they weirdly non-verbally established that they’re definitely dating.

And this is how Sehun ends up catching a bike ride home around midnight on the following Wednesday after he texts Jongdae at six pm that he's had to stay behind for a study session on differentials and if Jongdae can give him the week old promised lift home.

Of course, Jongdae agrees. Of course, half an hour later when they're in the Seoul downtown they end up making a detour to a good ramyun shop in one of the hidden alleys. Of course, it's their proper first date even though they don't call it that; Jongdae nonchalantly asked if Sehun had time to go out while handing him the spare helmet and Sehun readily said that he totally did and was actually really hungry. And before Jongdae could mount the motorcycle, dressed in his amazing leather combo again, hair still dark red and neon orange piercing and matching studs on display, Sehun snapped a picture of him bending over his blue'n'black Honda for his Instagram story, ensuring the success of the particular update with sending the post to the group chat with his friends.

The evening date is a success. They joke around a lot; Sehun actually manages to make Jongdae almost pop a vessel or two from laughter with his sarcastic remarks (it just took a couple of beers to get him comfortable around the older boy to slip into his hilariously judgy personality), Jongdae turns out to be an outgoing guy who can keep up any possible conversation going, from recent economic disasters around the world to most recent gossip on popular people at SNU.

Sehun learns that Jongdae loves inhaling his noodles with the loudest, most disgusting slurping noises and gets slightly red in the cheeks when he realizes that Sehun is staring a little too hard in awe at the amount of food the boy can fit in his brackety mouth at one time.

When Sehun catches a look at his phone during their date, he sees a total of 456 views on his earlier Instagram story, 51 DMs from random people with possible congratulations on scoring the date, and several hollering messages in the group chat.

There’s also one missed call from his mother which makes Sehun purse his lips. Of course, she follows his Instagram account, not like she ever lets him forget about the fact. He ignores the call.

They waste time until it's close to midnight when Sehun finally asks Jongdae to take him home because he’s worried about the older boy returning to his own home too late, at which Jongdae just snorts in amusement but wordlessly complies with. He takes care of the bill, reasoning that it is courtesy of a responsible hyung, “and your boyfriend,” he adds, gasping, after Sehun punches him in the gut for implying that their relationship is something so simple.

Everything is going peachy with all the beer he’s drunk to get said comfortable around the older boy sort of sloshing inside Sehun (Jongdae’s only knocked back soda all evening long) until the biker actually hears Sehun’s address; pierced eyebrow crawls up into his hairline when he realizes that Sehun lives in Gyedong-gil.

“Bukchon Hanok village? Are you... shitting me?” Jongdae incredulously asks his control panel as Sehun eagerly mounts the motorcycle right behind him and not so subtly fits his hips as close to the other's as possible; Jongdae's narrow hips are snuggled inside Sehun’s bigger frame and it's overwhelming how much Sehun loves this moment, this motorcycle and, obviously, Jongdae.

Also, he's kind of starting to feel a little bit tipsy.

“Sehun, you're living in a fucking museum,” he whispers, sounding awed and horrified at the same time. Sehun frowns at his own flapping arms and then grabs Jongdae from behind, pulling the shorter boy into his chest, the motorcycle craning dangerously as the biker momentarily loses his balance. Jongdae says nothing though, only quickly moves them both back to the front of the Honda so the weight is spread evenly again.

“It’s not a museum. It’s like living in a normal apartment, but way colder because no central heating. We do have a cook though,” he explains in a monotonous disinterested voice, putting his head on Jongdae’s shoulder. It’s not the most comfortable position but it doesn’t matter. What matters and what’s much more interesting than the fact that he’s living in the heritage of Seoul city is watching Jongdae’s eyelashes flutter gently, and his cheekbones and ears blush, breath stuck in his throat as he lets Sehun get this close. “You know that my family’s rich. Family business.”

“I-I’ve heard. Something to do with-”

“-with making custom suits and traditional wear. ‘S why I’m wearing suits all the damn time like a douche,” he continues to whisper right against the boy’s neck, and Jongdae finally cracks and starts giggling, all squirmy and cute in Sehun’s arms, clearly shy and, yes, Sehun wants to pick him up and carry him off right about now. 

“It’s ticklish, don’t breathe on me, let’s just go, rich douche,” still flustered, he quickly slips into his helmet, handing Sehun his spare one without looking. Sehun huffs at his attitude and doesn’t let Jongdae start the engine, playfully squeezing his thighs and crushing Jongdae’s legs against the motorcycle seat. He thinks that it is, the victory is tasting sweet on his tongue, lil cute biker boyfriend overpowered, but then Jongdae releases a muffled laugh; very easily spreads his knees like Sehun's not putting his all into his chicken hips to squeeze.

It's embarrassing how fast Jongdae's seemingly thunder thighs throw his legs off. It's also really damn hot.

Maybe, he realizes, Jongdae can actually pick Sehun up and carry him somewhere private too. Maybe, Sehun will _definitely_ ask him to do that after date no.3.

Jongdae turns around just to knock on his helmet to show him to wear his own because they need to go, and even like that, with his face hidden, he seems fucking smug and Sehun can't even argue with that.

Plus, honestly, he forgets everything when they start speeding down the roads of nightly Seoul. The blur of lights, their fluidity against light traffic, late hours giving them freedom to move without stops. Even red lights seem to have caught on the mood, green lighting their way through the city as if charmed by some magic. There's absolutely no space between the two of them, as Sehun’s slid down the seat and plastered himself all over Jongdae's back in his slightly tipsy state, and Jongdae never shows any discomfort at having Sehun press so close. 

It’s exhilarating. Speeding between the cars at night, faster than Sehun's ever had a chance of driving; clutching onto the leather of Jongdae's jacket, basically engulfing his smaller form in a bear like embrace, holding on for dear life; heavily breathing into Jongdae's spare helmet in excitement. Motorcycling is incredible, Sehun decides, and should become the permanent constant in his life.

It takes them about half an hour of veering through the main and side streets when they finally reach one of the main touristic attractions where Sehun lives, duly closed from visiting hours this late at night. Jongdae enters the narrow street between rows of neat traditional one-storey buildings, lowers the speed to a minimum to Sehun’s begrudging displeasure, and opens his visor.

“All the fences look the same, show me where to go,” he says softly over the hum of the engine. Very slowly, practically crawling through the streets, seven minutes later they're stopping in front of the shut tall traditional gates to Sehun's house with big steps leading up to the actual entrance.

Sehun dismounts and takes his helmet off while Jongdae just sits on his bike, staring at the beautiful intricate designs of poorly lit gates of the hanok house, shaking his head seemingly at the sheer idea that anyone actually lives in one of the most famous places in Seoul.

“It looks really cool, Sehun, do you take your tea in the special designated room? The tea that’s made by your cook? ” His following snort is muffled, and Sehun just rolls his eyes and knocks on his helmet to make him take it off. The boy slips the protection off, and yes, there it is: the stupid way his sweaty bangs are plastered to his forehead. Sehun quickly tries combing through his own hair, probably experiencing even worse disaster of a helmet head.

“Don't worry, you look good,” Jongdae tells him, a small knowing smile on his face, and sweeps his fingers through his choppy fringe, making it look even more disheveled. Sehun nods in wordless thanks, also giving up, and watches the bracket of Jongdae's mouth spread in a loud smug grin. «Not as good as I do though,” and this duly earns him a light punch on the forearm.

“I had so much fun tonight, thank you,” Sehun says after their chuckles die down. It's Jongdae's turn to nod in acknowledgement, the boy licking his lips and momentarily shifting his gaze, as if suddenly shy.

“Me too, let's do this again soon,” he replies, finally looking up from his control panel, gentle smile playing on his lips, letting Sehun meet his eyes. They're all sparkly and glittery, a light blush on his cheeks, either from wearing his stuffy helmet, or the little night wind, or embarrassment (daww), and his piercing is still an obnoxious neon orange, as he’s sitting on his Honda and Sehun? Sehun is a weak man.

“Can I… Can I give you a kiss… on the cheek?” He says really awkwardly, absolutely horrified, with courage deserting him once the words have flown right out of his mouth. What the hell Sehun is even thinking about, his palms are too sweaty and his hair looks dumb, and his face is probably all swollen because he drank beer all evening long, shit, his breath probably smells like roadkill because he ate ramyun with onions, and what was he fucking thinking…

“Of course,” Jongdae says immediately, absolutely breathless. “I-I wanted to do that too but was kinda worried you'd think I'm being too forward,” he explains quickly because Sehun's mouth goes dry and he freezes, but Jongdae's probably thinking he's offended him by sounding so surprised. “Not that I think you're too forward! I'm just…”

“Hyung, just shut up,” Sehun whispers, steps up impossibly close, Jongdae’s knee between his thighs, and bends down, successfully silencing Jongdae with lips pressing to his cheek and the very tip of his curly mouth.

Honestly, it lasts three fucking seconds and ends too soon, not even a real kiss, a smooch, but Sehun is… fucked with HOW MUCH he enjoys it. He also finally lets him loudly breathes Jongdae in, and the boy smells like worn leather, lemon soda he drank and sweat because of his helmet. His skin is warm and soft, blessed with the absence of acne. And his cheekbones are blotchy again when he finally leans away.

And it's okay because Sehun's ears are pretty much burning off his head at this point.

“Sehun, I…” Jongdae starts.

“What do you think you're doing?!”

**Thursday**

Sehun almost breaks his neck with how fast he turns towards the now open gates, Jongdae leaning to look past him as well, expression concerned.

Sehun’s mother is standing on the steps leading up into the garden with the gate door handle clutched in her white knuckles, breathing like a rhino that’s preparing for an attack. She’s making huge eyes at them both, face bare of any make up, wearing her less pricy pajamas; the sheer fact that she’s deemed this important enough to run out of the house without wasting a single minute to look presentable gives Sehun a hint on how much crap she’s about to give him.

Shit, she saw them through the camera outside the entrance. 

“Mrs. Oh, good evening, I-“ Jongdae, the angel, brightens up, possibly tries to introduce himself, but Sehun knows better than trying to talk over his mother when she interrupts him, spitting fire faster than any underground rapper.

“Do you have any idea how concerned I’ve been? I called you several times! Was it so difficult to just pick up your fancy iPhone, which, let me remind you, was bought with my money, ungrateful fool! I’ve been waiting for you all evening long, was it so difficult to send me a message that you’ll be home late? And don’t think that I haven’t seen your Instagram! Why did you get home on THAT?! Where have you been anyway? Have you been driving with delivery service all evening long?!”

And if her tirade’s missing Sehun completely, as he just nods at Jongdae in encouragement, smiling subtly, watching the boy raise an amused pierced eyebrow at how fast his mother is speaking, the last sentence is an obvious mistake on his mother’s part; Sehun loses the smile, hating how the jab causes a slight change in Jongdae’s expression, eyes on guard and lips pursed. Sehun stands still, practically plastered to Jongdae’s side, squeezing his knee with his thighs, and contemplates just hopping back on the motorcycle behind the other, them speeding away into the sunset like in American coming-of-age films.

“Answer me!” She takes a step towards them, the old wooden door swinging shut with a loud bang, and Sehun finally spares her his best bitchface (the one he learned from her), hissing angrily in reply.

“You literally gifted this damn phone to me on my birthday, so it doesn’t count,” Jongdae snorts quietly in amusement, which is, okay, not that quiet, the sound making his mother throw the biker the dirtiest of looks. “And I didn’t answer your calls because you’d tell me to go home anyway. Also, please do remind me since when I am obliged to message you? You never open our family chat, because dad keeps spamming it with links to depressive news articles and really old memes. Last week I literally returned home from Jongin’s in the middle of the night and you just continued to watch your movie, laughing like a madman, okay, talk about hypocrisy- ouch! Mom, god, stop!”

And as always when he manages to really rile his mother up, she starts wordlessly smacking him right on the back, palm open in that Korean parent way that stings like a bitch; she lands fours resounding slaps on his shoulder blade until he jumps away from Jongdae to get away from the pain of her butchering hand. 

“Don’t you dare disrespect me, I’m your mother, kid,” she spits at him, and now that Sehun’s moved, busy twisting awkwardly to nurse his burning back with the tips of his fngers, nothing stops her from finally looking at Jongdae, who’s been watching the scene unfold in front of him with a really amused smile on his face, as if he’s on his damn sofa at home watching a funny drama episode, and not actually stuck in the said drama right about now. “As for you, young man, I’m not sure what you’re still doing here,” the snake opens her mouth, and pure poison is leaking, the tone of her voice making Sehun want to crawl.

But Jongdae, the king he absolutely is, stays unbothered, smile determined, as he gracefully swings his leg off the seat of his motorbike, finally standing up to his full height (and glory), just to bow deeply in show of his respect to the older person. 

“Of course you’re not sure because I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself to you yet,” he says cheerfully, standing back up, and Sehun is positively feeling hot at that level of defiance towards his mother. Encouraged, he also takes a confident step forward and towers behind Jongdae like a bodyguard ready to throw himself between him and his mother in case she decides to attack the biker with her bare hands. Jongdae doesn’t even blink at the lack of space between them, back pressed into Sehun’s chest, smile ever-present on his handsome face. “I’m Kim Jongdae, third year of financial management department, economics major at Seoul National, just like Sehun. We actually met at the uni, he walked right into me and dropped my coffee on me, it was cute,” and then he subtly turns his head and directs his next words at Sehun, sounding whiny, “I actually had to throw that shirt into my pajamas slash ruined clothes pile, that coffee stain never washed out.”

“I’ll just buy you a new one,” Sehun scowls at that, poking Jongdae in the back for being so salty about a plain undershirt, and Jongdae playfully elbows him back, and Sehun’s mother splutters at this exasperating level of PDA.

“What are you doing?! Move away from each other, what if our neighbors see you!”

Like your crazy screeching wouldn’t be the first thing to wake them up, he thinks but is not suicidal enough to say out loud. Her obviously panicking reaction still makes Jongdae nod in understanding (that his mother is a boring conservative old person who doesn’t care about lgbt+ rights and “modern shit like that”), as he purses his lips and moves to sit back on his motorcycle, clearly eager to be on his way, smart enough to try and avoid talking to Sehun’s mom more than necessary. 

Kudos to his mother though because Sehun does catch the subtle change in her expression as she registers what Jongdae’s introduction entails; his boyfriend’s educated enough to be studying at SNU, conquering the third year on not just any but financial course. But it’s not a big breakthrough in her general opinions on the kind of people Sehun usually gets attracted to (because the mother hen keeps a dirty tab on his likes in Instagram, no doubt): she is clearly frowning in visible distaste at the colour of Jongdae’s hair, his eyebrow piercing, big studs in his ears, his leather jacket and, of course, his cool bike, so prejudiced that she’s already mentally filed Jongdae into her “Delinquent” folder.

No one’s ever succeeded in getting in her _Good Books_ after receiving the mental delinquent tag. Sehun’s not sure he cares to try and correct her at this point.

“Well, Mr. Kim, I don't know what business you have going around on that dangerous thing but I don't condone this transportation way,” his mother says snottily, her words loudly translating to _I don't approve of you, you hooligan, get away from my son_ , and Jongdae just shakes his head in a very familiar way and chuckles, the sound so pleasant Sehun almost melts into a puddle, clearly understanding the subtext and habitually refusing to waste any of his time on arguing with a single-brain-celled creature like Sehun’s mom.

Honestly, Sehun is experiencing a mental boner.

“I completely understand your apprehension, thank you for the concern, but I've been going around on my motorbike for a certain number of years now, so please be reassured that I'll be okay and that you’ll be seeing me quite often in the near future,” Sehun's mother drills Jongdae with the filthiest of glares as she watches Jongdae nonchalantly pull his helmet over his head, his clear as day implications summing up to _FUCK YOU WOMAN IMMA DATE THE SHIT OUTTA UR SON_. “Well, I'll be on my way then,” he says, looking up at Sehun with his visor still up. “I'll text you,” and then he fucking winks before smoothly hitting his visor shut, and Sehun's not sure his boner is just mental at this point.

“Bye, babe!” Sehun shouts in the loudest of voices he can manage, waving obnoxiously, after Jongdae starts the engine and throws him a peace sign, speeding away down the narrow street. Then he turns around and presents his mother with the biggest shit-eating grin he can master, practically ready to giggle in glee at his mom’s shocked face. Sehun’s not sure if she’s even realized that this is the same boy with sleeve paws she already met at the café just two weeks ago, but he knows for sure that if she just disliked Kim Jongdae then, she’s full on hating him now.

When she turns to him, her eyes promise murder.

“Were you fucking kissing him smack in front of my house?!”

**lazy**

Sehun’s positively glowing when he pulls up into a parking spot near Jongdae’s biker shop at Garosugil on a Sunday afternoon, his silver Alfa Romeo sparkling in the sun. He himself is sure that he’s a whole vision when he steps out of the car like damn James Bond, squeaky prim and proper in his dark green tweed three-piece suit, black as coal hair gelled into perfection, sneakers – of an expensive brand in obnoxiously sparkly silver colour to match the car.

Yes, he’s guilty of being rich, and handsome, and young, so why not to flaunt it, yolo, bitch.

A couple of tourists walking down the crowded street stop to snap quick pictures of him, and some people turn to throw him (mostly, his car tbh) impressed looks as he shuts the door with a bang, and leans against his car in the best fashion of models in magazines, waiting for his boyfriend to come out.

“Jesus, why is JD’s boytoy such a fucking douche,” Baekhyun (the Assface) whines from inside the shop, his voice loud with all the windows and doors open to let breeze in. He’s drilling envious glares into Sehun’s silver Romeo; of course, he’s jealous, his old as balls dustyass yellow Kawasaki is a bucket full of screws in comparison to Sehun’s Tardis-like auto. “Dammit, I want a rich date too, I’m not too picky, whoever’s willing to drive me around on a beauty like that,” he continues to whine, desperate as he leans over the nice wooden cashier desk, and Sehun snorts when the other suddenly starts batting his rare eyelashes, smile full of saccharine on his thin lips. “Seeehuuun, what do you want in exchange for a test-drive on your baby?” 

“Hyung, tattoo Oh Sehun’s the Best on your forehead, then I’ll think about it,” He shouts to the other, smirking.

“Bitch,” Baekhyun drops the sweet voice and smile, the ugliest scowl marring his features. He then turns back into the shop, practically screaming, “Stinkface, your stupid boytoy came to pick you up!”

“’m coming!”

Sehun chews on his lips in excitement, and smiles stupidly at hearing his boyfriend’s voice, giddy and nervous because it’ll be his first time driving the other around on his car, after he’s begrudgingly agreed to dye his hair classic black. His mother was triumphant about that for about 5 minutes, until Sehun told her that he had decided on going back to black because he finally wanted to show Jongdae his car in action and not just through Instagram posts (his boyfriend's been suggesting him to get his car its own personal Insta account, like ones for puppies).

The smile dropped off his mother's face at that faster than Sehun could say JD.

It doesn’t matter that she’s ignoring the fact that Sehun’s dating a biker with body piercings, economics major be damned. Doesn’t matter that she continues to set him up on blind dates with partners’ daughters. He makes sure Jongdae knows about every single one of them, though Jongdae makes it seem like he doesn’t mind at all, telling him to have fun and come back with a girlfriend each and every time. He gets slapped for saying such dumb shit, and laughs in that annoying loud way, hiding his eyes.

Evidently, Sehun understands that Jongdae says that just to mock his dumb mother, trying to hide the fact that the situation actually frustrates him. It kind of sucks how much angel Jongdae hates making Sehun worry, and stubbornly refuses to acknowledge that it bothers him. 

It’s okay though, because even though Jongdae sometimes naturally doubts both himself and Sehun’s feelings, what with them being so different, Sehun knows for sure just how much he’s fucking whipped for his short boyfriend.

Because Jongdae is awesome like that. Because he’s a selfless angel who loves making people happy around him, so easy-going and kind, always so seemingly confident and yet apprehensive in that endearing way that Sehun always wants to just tackle him into his pocket and protect.

“Good lord, you truly are at your douchiest today,” Jongdae whistles as he finally exits the shop, awed by Sehun’s whole pompous look. He comes to stand beside Sehun with both Junmyeon and Baekhyun in tow, the later using the moment and sliding his palm down his Romeo’s bonnet. “Sweet deities, look at your shoes, Oh,” Jongdae actually chuckles as he looks down, but Sehun turns a deaf ear to his mocking, licking his lips as he releases an appreciative hum at his boyfriend’s outfit.

Sweater paws, they’re having a dashing comeback today.

Endeared beyond words, Sehun bends down and lightly taps on Jongdae’s chin, sloppily smacking their mouths together as soon as his biker boyfriend looks up. They’re very quick to find their rhythm though even with them both smiling into the kiss; it’s wet, lips sliding together, as Jongdae eagerly sucks on Sehun’s upper lip, Sehun responding in kind. They’re forced to separate too soon though when Baekhyun starts loudly gagging at their blunt PDA and Junmyeon “accidently ” stumbles right on Jongdae’s foot. The shorter man breaks off the kiss to groan at the pain, curly lips slightly swollen, and, wow, it’s suddenly hot in his tweed jacket.

Also, Jongdae’s new sweater actually has strippers dancing around poles today, how fitting. Clothes will definitely be thrown off today.

“Slytherin pride, am I right?” Junmyeon suddenly jokes at his car-outfit-shoes colour combo, smiling in a really shitty annoying way, and okay, it's not that funny, Baekhyun actually sharing Sehun’s sentiment for once and throwing the other a dirty look; Jongdae, the sun, cracks up like he's never heard anything funnier.

“Oh my god, you're right! Sehun, you could have been Malfoy, what a waste you dyed your hair!” He hits Sehun on the forearm a couple of times, very amused.

“If I didn't, we wouldn't be standing here joking,” he grumbles in offense, poking his boyfriend in the chest to get his full attention. His chest with his awesome pierced nipples. Sehun licks his lips again at the thought and pulls Jongdae into a suffocating bear hug in revenge.

“I know, I know, I don't really care about your hair, big baby, here, let me pat your butt to make you feel better,” habitually, as he always does during their hug sessions, Jongdae settles his warm palms on Sehun's ass. “You look really awesome, so cool, blew my mind off with your handsome…”

“And your pants too?” Sehun mutters into Jongdae's now sandy coarse hair in a fake pout; Jongdae's bangs have now grown a bit and are touching his eyebrows, and it's a damn good look on him.

“D'aww, and my pants too, but later tonight, not now, okay?” Jongdae says in the same pouty voice, muffled against Sehun's jacket.

“I declare you two absolutely disgusting,” Baekhyun interrupts them yet again, now almost lying on the bonnet of Sehun's car, his smirk loud and contagious. “But I'd date a zombie if it had a car like that, so I get you, JD.”

One of Jongdae's palms disappears off his butt, probably flipping Baekhyun off, just as Sehun scowls at the rude little shit.

“Why are the both of you here anyway, it’s my date, I didn’t ask you to come out here with me,” he says in an annoyed voice, still muffled against Sehun’s chest and the taller boy nods eagerly in agreement.

“Chanyeol has a cool car too,” Junmyeon mutters under his breath, a sort of exaggerated (tell-telling) offended pout on his lips.

“Yeol drives a hugeass G-Wagen and it's not even the latest model, how the hell can you compare it to my elegant Romeo-" Sehun starts, losing grip on Jongdae at the sheer audacity to suggest that his Alfa Romeo can be compared to a shitty Mercedes, but Junmyeon beats him to it.

“I gave him the suck in that G-Wagon, it's definitely cooler than your flimsy little car,” Junmyeon notes, so casual, like they're talking about the weather, and okay, now it explains why Chanyeol’s been getting all flustered and rosy-cheeked each time they part ways on the parking lot, giving himself a two-minute pep talk before actually starting the engine.

Poor traumatized child, Sehun thinks, releasing a small sigh in fake concern.

“Okay, red card to you, hyung, what the fuck, ever heard of sharing too much information!” Baekhyun practically jumps off Sehun's car, pointing a tiny accusing figer at Junmyeon who smirks like he’s just won the fucking lottery, while Jongdae pushes away from Sehun, a tired expression on his face.

“Quickly, let’s go before I choke him,” he blurts, and Sehun is just too happy to comply.

“Okay, hyung,” he chirps, watching Jongdae quickly make his way to the passenger’s seat.

His Jongdae, who’s shed his leather clothes for their date tonight, jeans hugging thunder thighs (oh boy, are they strong ones), his cute sweater paw clumsily grabbing onto the car door handle, black spikes naughtily poking right out of his eyebrow (nipple rings safely hidden from public under the strippers on his obnoxious sweater). So hot, cute, strong, powerful, confident, kind, baby biker boy Jongdae.

Jongdae has one foot inside the car, Baekhyun and Junmyeon still arguing in the background when he just fucking blurts it out.

“Hey, hyung, you're the best solution to my homogeneous system of linear equations.”

**Author's Note:**

> "hey, I don't have a soundcloud to promote, but can yall stream blooming days by cbx"


End file.
